


On the Other Side

by Misaki_kaito



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Astolat - Freeform, M/M, Misethere, alternate POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misaki_kaito/pseuds/Misaki_kaito
Summary: Perspectives from Emhyr, on the events of Misethere.





	1. Mastering One's Self

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astolat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Misethere](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9168430) by [astolat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat). 



> So this was inspired by Misethere by astolat, which was like, awesome sauce, everyone should read it she made the characters come to life. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @ http://misakikaito.tumblr.com/, and don't be afraid to message me! (Seriously, come scream with me at Witcher and other stuff, I don't bite!)

Before he had played against Geralt, before he used the misethere to tether the witcher and thus Cirilla to himself, Emhyr might have been able to think past the rage and frustration. He wouldn't have needed to master himself because Geralt would have meant nothing to him; indeed, Geralt would not have even been in this situation, captured by the Hierarch in a bid to wrangle Emhyr and Nilfgaard. He would have only been precious to Cirilla.

He would not have been precious to Emhyr as well.

When Emhyr entered the sleeping area of the pavilion after receiving the grisly evidence of the Hierarch's threat, his eyes fell upon the shah board, with its delicately carved ivory pieces still set for when Geralt returned from Novigrad. And Emhyr stared at it for a long moment, helpless rage welling up inside him, twice as worse due to the misethere. 

He didn't even realize it until after he had done it, the crash from the board lost to the thunder of his own blood in his ears, and he sank to his knees, yielding for but a moment to his emotions. 

It was all he allowed himself before he got up, and walked to his chest, where the old, set-aside plans for the siege of Novigrad lay. 

Once, he wouldn't have bothered; he would have taken the cure to the misethere and moved on, proved the Hierarch wrong with a gamble on Geralt's life. Cirilla would not have forgiven him, but at that point there was little more he could do to foster affection between them, let alone trust. 

It was too late for that, now. Months and months too late.


	2. The Dagger and the Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time before the reveal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by the lovely kungfunurse who bears my yelling at her with unparalleled grace. And helps me find pesky typos.

But for the presence of the dagger, this was eerily similar to their first night together. Emhyr could see that Geralt could sense something wrong; Dijkstra had deduced the misethere's presence, but not the full plot until it was too late for him.

And judging by the speed of Dijkstra's decreasing sobriety, Geralt would find out sooner than later. 

There were many things Emhyr could reasonably predict; Geralt's actions were never one of them. So after awarding the spoils and titles and lands in the celebration, Emhyr made a tactical retreat to the previous Hierarch's rooms, and quietly prepared. 

It took more time than he thought it would for Geralt to find the truth. It gave Emhyr time to think. 

In his initial plan, Geralt would have eventually found out, but only after Cirilla was crowned. Then Emhyr could face the consequences of his actions without affecting Nilfgaard. 

Emhyr had not expected to be proved wrong. He didn't expect Geralt to be anything but a brute, a thug. He did not expect the kind of man Geralt actually was: the kind that could play shah and gwent with an Emperor and give it their all. The kind of man who thirsted for a challenge, but who also cared deeply for those causes he deemed worthy. 

The misethere overrode his usual preferences, but its control was only greater than Emhyr's own in times of stress and surprise; much like the original curse that was cast on him. Pavetta was his first love, and he thought his last; he did not think he'd grow to enjoy Geralt's company, in or out of bed. The misethere was not solely responsible for all of his attraction to the Witcher. 

Geralt was...wild. he was proud with good reason if any of the legends about him were true. But he was neither close minded nor simple as Emhyr had previously believed; since his suggestions were rebuffed that night, Emhyr was forced to reassess his view of Geralt. His insolence was refreshing, but his intellect was a surprise; one Emhyr was disgusted with himself for missing. Games of shah and gwent and talks over wine and brandy and even Geralt's body told him much of Geralt's mind. It was a disquieting thought, that he had misjudged Geralt so badly as to have let him go with Yennefer, dismissing him based on an imperfect assessment of his character. 

All of this: this deception, the gambles, everything was for Nilfgaard, and ultimately, Cirilla. It was for the future of his kingdom and his heirs, and now they were safe. 

Now he could let the lies fall, and face the truths. 

“Hell of a risk.” Emhyr didn't hear Geralt approach, but then again, he did not expect to. 

Cirilla was safe. Nilfgaard was safe. It would have to do.

“Less than you might think.”


	3. A Year's Wait

It had been near a year since Geralt had left him, and Emhyr was nothing if not patient. But even he grew worried as the stretch of time in which his spies saw neither hide nor hair of Geralt grew and grew. Against his better judgment, Emhyr put out notices in the only place Geralt could go: Skellige. Emhyr knew it to be a mistake when even the whispers that he had once gotten of Geralt dried up, and sent out notices with a small change that he knew-- _hoped_ Geralt would see for what it was.

_If the witcher known as Geralt of Rivia should read this, one who holds him in affection would be very glad to know that he is well._

But Emhyr did not expect  _this_ turn of events when he looked up to see who had entered his study. When the door opened, Emhyr paused his work. Few people were allowed to enter unannounced, and Emhyr couldn't help but wonder what catastrophe happened  _now_ . 

Emhyr gave an imperceptible sigh as he started to raise his head to look at who entered, “I trust there is an adequate reason for-” Emhyr froze at the sight before him.

It was Geralt, who immediately entered, uncaring of his own state of disarray as he started unloading his swords and weapons, then going for his boots.

“ _Did_ you have those notices posted, or was that Dijkstra, too?” Geralt sounded more than angry, but Emhyr couldn't bring himself to care about that just yet. He was _here._

“What has Dijkstra done?” Emhyr asked slowly, mind racing. Whatever it was, it warranted a _reward_. Geralt continued to roughly shuck his armor and boots. 

“Set me up to believe the misethere cure damaged your heart.” Emhyr blinked. That was...

“How unexpectedly poetic of him. And the notices were indeed mine, so one cannot even call it wholly inaccurate.” Emhyr carefully took the chain of his office from his shoulders, and placed it on his desk. He watched as Geralt doffed his armor, before circling the desk and kissing him desperately. 

Geralt's response was...satisfying.

 

 


End file.
